


Much Ado....

by TwoCatsTailoring



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Josephine is gonna protect the inquisitor by the maker, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: The Inquisitor sleeps and Dorian admires.





	Much Ado....

Dorian Pavus didn't skulk about. It wasn't in his nature and actively went against everything he believed in. So when Josephine, the dear girl, greeted his entrance with a vicious glare and a finger to her lips, followed by a telling gesture across her throat, remaining silent almost brought him physical pain.

That is, until she cut her eyes in the direction of one of the fireside chairs in her study and he followed her gaze to find their hard-working Inquisitor (his cherished Daniel) slumped to one side in a deep sleep.

He’d never remained quiet so willingly in his life. And Josie seemed to recognize that because she returned to her parchments and ink with a smile.

Dorian chose to ignore the knowingness of that smile. At least she wouldn't _meddle_ like Leliana.

Daniel was well and truly out, it seemed. His jaw slack, his breathing even and quiet, his hands finally still. Dorian rounded the chair on cat’s paws, admiring the scattering of freckled Daniel had picked up in the Exalted Plains.

Which added to the ones he'd gotten in the Forbidden Oasis. And the ones from the Emerald Graves. Like constellations across his nose and cheeks, so fair and pale.

They were even visible, now that he was not constantly in motion, in the lines of his tattoos. That wasn't the right word and Dorian knew it, but his tongue was too human, too clumsy, too Tevinter to do justice to the word _valleslin._ Even in his head he heard it in the low, warm tones of Daniel’s voice, not the too loud rasping of his own attempts.

He’d explained the process, too. And Dorian’s frank admiration of enduring the process had befuddled him. It was a rite of passage, the mark of adulthood, acceptance of his place among his people. A charge of honor and all that. Dorian understood of course, but as he had pointed out he had nearly come apart at the seams when he’d drunkenly gotten a tiny serpent tattooed on his hip.

And Daniel didn’t flinch when his Keeper hammered thick blue lines into his eyelids? It was enough to make Dorian question is manhood. Even if only for a moment.

Dorian knelt silently beside his chair. Andraste, wasn’t he beautiful?

Awake, he was so alive, such a force of nature but not like a raging storm or earthquakes. Like…. Like water, steady and determined, flowing around what he could not move instead of blasting right through it. So different from everyone Dorian was used to!

And like this, sleeping so deeply even his busy hands -so uneasy with nothing to do- were motionless in his lap? He rivaled every painting, every sculpture, every great work of art Dorian had ever seen. No creation, natural or artificial, could compare to the fire-warm flush on the face of the man he loved so well.

Daniel sighed, then stirred, then opened his eyes. “You know, it’s difficult to sleep while you are being watched,” he observed wryly as he dug the heel of his hand into his eye.

Dorian rested his chin in his hand and asserted, “I wasn't watching.”

“Observing, then.”

“Admiring, actually. Would you prefer I not?”

Daniel huffed a small laugh and ran his hands through his hair before stretching like a cat, his jaw cracking as he yawned. Did he have any idea at all how utterly irresistible he was?

“Just don’t be so loud about it next time.” In one simple motion, Daniel leaned over, pressed a kiss to Dorian’s mouth, and stood up.

He didn't have a clue how perfect he was. And Dorian wasn't sure what to do about it.


End file.
